


Twentieth Century Hero

by plastic_cello



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Outer Space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 04:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2095752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plastic_cello/pseuds/plastic_cello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki contemplated the question seriously.  He had broken every law known to the galaxy, and well if he went to Quadrant Three; he was going to do ten times worse, maybe even twenty times worse.</p>
<p>"I wouldn't have it any other way, space cowboy."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twentieth Century Hero

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dont_touch_the_phlebotinum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dont_touch_the_phlebotinum/gifts).



> This was heavily inspired by Cowboy Bebop, not necessarily by Guardians of the Galaxy (seeing as I was halfway done with this before I even seen the movie). Anyway, I hope you enjoy. And of course, I would recommend listening to "Tank!" from the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack and "Motorcycle Cop" by Power Glove. :)
> 
> There is a slur used at the end of the story; by no means do I condone the use of it.

* * *

They said he dated back to the twentieth century; a wartime hero in the Second World War and a participant in every Great War after that. His codename lived in infamy, and his reputation preceded him for well over three-hundred years now; which was precisely why the whole room tensed at his appearance.

The Winter Soldier entered the dingy bar with two men flanking him. Both were muscle-bound, armed, and clothed fully in black; they had toothy grins on their faces, as if they were rearing for a fight and really wanted to draw some blood. If that was the case, they probably came to the right place.

As the Soldier advanced further into the room, Loki bristled but didn't lose his composure. There wasn't any reason to be concerned; not yet anyway. But when it came to the Winter Soldier, god only knew what sort of danger he'd be on the receiving end of. Especially when Loki was sitting with a hefty bounty on his head, placed there by none other than the All-Father himself.

The crimes stacked against him were rather extensive, but none were as significant as the ones that the All-Father's had committed in his youth. The only difference between the two was that Loki had done each offense with a level of sophistication, and well he had also done them while being Jotun too; a cardinal sin in the eyes of Odin and his family.

Calculatedly, Loki reached for his partially filled glass and took a drink. His eyes were trained on the Soldier, and waited for the moment to come. It came rather abruptly too; the Soldier didn't deem it necessary to prolong the room's combined anxiety, and instead chose to stop right beside the small table Loki had taken residence at for the past hour and a half.

Without a word, the Winter Soldier sat across from him; his leather trench coat bellowed out behind him in a menacing way. Then again everything about the man was particularly intimidating; even Loki found his gaze a little unnerving and caused him to feel uncomfortable.

"You seem rather spry for a three-hundred year old soldier." He said coolly, while taking another sip from his glass. "Have you had any work done?"

"Loki Laufeyson; son of Laufey, who happened to have worked closely with the All-Father before his untimely death twenty-three years ago," the Soldier rattled out without any inflection. "The Odinson family took you in and raised you as their own. Only when you learned of your true parentage, specifically the advancements in technology in which the Odinson family used to veil your natural state; did you turn on them.

"You're wanted for murder, robbery, embezzlement, and arson. The bounty on your head is twelve million dollars; dead or alive."

"Only twelve million; I'm offended and disappointed." He lamented.

Twelve million was an impressive bounty; not many criminals could even break into seven figures with all the mayhem that they caused. So in a way, Loki supposed, he should have been proud of that feat. However, he had committed a slew of crimes and ensured his former father figure would suffer immensely. So it should have been well beyond twelve million and upwards to twenty instead.

The Winter Soldier didn't reply. He continued to stare at Loki, as if he could somehow tear down the illusion of his pale white skin, and replace it with the deep blue of the Jotun people. Luckily, it would have proven difficult to disarm the microchip that regulated his body temperature and maintained the façade put into place. Seeing as the chip was implanted underneath his skin and in a discreet location that he wouldn't easily allow anyone near.

"Despite your reputation, I will not be coming quietly with you. I rather like my life on the run. And if you know anything about the Jotun race, we are very aggressive when we need to be."

"I'm aware." The Soldier answered, as he pulled out a highly sophisticated revolver from the holster at his side. Rather than pointing it at Loki, he set it onto the table top, and arched an eyebrow which somehow lacked any personality.

The need to survive became very apparent within a matter of seconds. Loki too was armed and labeled dangerous, so he could stand his ground if need be. He'd been trained in martial arts at a young age too; yet it remained to be seen if he could take on the infamous Winter Soldier and his goonies nearby.

"Well, if you want to take me into custody then you should pick up that gun of yours before I end your very long life."

"I don't have any intentions on taking you into custody."

"Isn't that an unexpected turn of events."

"Jotun people have been rumored to be clairvoyant."

"Why would a man like you need a clairvoyant?" Loki eyed the revolver and estimated how quickly he could take possession of it. Because surely this had to be a joke; the All-Father liked to play his games as much as he did.

From early on, Loki had had some foresight that others lacked. Clairvoyance was traditionally passed down from generation to generation in the Jotun race; although, Loki's vision was oftentimes muddy and unclear. But he still had predicted by his thirty-first birthday that his familial ties would be broken somehow. And well, he certainly hadn't been wrong about that.

Discovering his Jotun roots had been traumatic for him. The galaxy didn't exactly take kindly to the frost giants; not with their history of pillaging and destruction, and what they considered their barbaric practices. Loki had also been taught to loathe such pea-brained creatures by the All-Father himself. So when he found out about his true parentage, he hadn't taken the news graciously to say the least.

People had died. Money had been stolen. The family home had been set on fire. Things had gotten out of hand and he'd been on the run for over seven months now. But he couldn't say he regretted it any; not when the All-Father had intentionally withheld the truth from him, while also being all too eager to demonize the Jotun people whenever he had the opportunity to.

"I don't remember things." The Soldier said in the same deadpan voice. "But clairvoyants can hold an object and draw memories out of it. I have an item I want you to touch."

"And why would I help you?"

"Self-preservation,"

"I don't need your help on that front." Loki retorted, only to have the barrel of the revolver suddenly in pointed in his face. He hadn't even seen the Soldier move.

Fear curled its way around him; a phantom hand that clutched at his throat, and brought the taste of bile into his mouth. It would only take a second for the Winter Soldier to kill him; it would all be over in the blink of an eye and both of them knew it.

The sound of barstool being pushed back became fairly apparent in the silence. Everyone within shooting distance had leapt to their feet; too terrified to run away, but too damned nosy to hide from any stray bullets. If Loki could reach his own gun at his hip, he would have shot them all.

"You have two options, Jotun. Choose wisely." The Soldier pulled back the revolver's hammer and waited for his answer with the patience of a saint.

Out of the two choices given to him, Loki quickly made his decision. Even someone who'd been struck deaf, blind, and stupid would have chosen their life over a bullet. But the likelihood he would be killed anyway was certainly a possibility all the same. His gift of clairvoyance hadn't been honed any and while he saw things, they didn't exactly make sense all the time.

"Between a bullet and a demand for my help, well both of us know the one I'll inevitably choose."

"Wise decision," the Soldier stood, but kept the revolver pointed at him. "Now you will follow me."

Compliantly, Loki stood but not before he finished his drink. Once he downed the fiery concoction, he held up his hands and allowed the Winter Soldier to grab him by the back of the neck, and direct him towards the bar's exit.

The Soldier's hold was impenetrable. Loki had heard rumors that one of his limbs was cybernetic, which would explain the iron-clad grip he had on him and essentially the reason why he hadn't gotten much of a vibe from his touch either. The arm was probably fairly new and didn't hold any significant meaning beyond its function.

As they wound their way around tables and chairs, the Soldier's lackeys fell into step with him almost immediately. Neither of them spoke, but their cocky grins were still in place; as if they had done something in the whole exchange beyond having a shot or two at the bar. Loki would have killed them if he could just to make a point.

No one intervened on his behalf. Everyone watched as he was directed out into the brisk night air and into the shadows where no one would follow. Space shuttles and fighter planes and oversized freight ships of all shapes and sizes were parked outside the bar. It was a pit-stop from one planet to the next; a real dump, to be honest. Loki had hoped he would have made it to Neptune within the next few days.

He had stolen a decent little ship for his purposes, but it looked like he wouldn't be able to take it with him, after all. The Winter Soldier was probably not that accommodating. God only knew how he'd react when Loki was incapable of unearthing any information he hoped he would. He suspected he'd be dead within seconds.

One of the Soldier's lackeys took the lead, and headed towards a foreboding looking vessel behind a row many smaller ones. It was an old model airship, one previously used for invasion and warfare. It was painted completely black, beyond a red skull with what appeared to be tentacles framing it.

Panic threatened to grip Loki, once they were within steps of boarding the old warship. The hand on the back of his neck was persistent, though. He feared if he tried to flee, he'd be paralyzed from the neck down; if not killed instantly. And well, self-preservation was still very important to him; so he knew when to obey and when to strike.

The head lackey in charge opened up the hatch with a miniature remote control. It lowered with a loud and rusty whine, and revealed a dimly lit underbelly. The Soldier shoved Loki forward, forcing him up the ramp; until they were fully into the ship.

Several fighter planes were located inside; all of them were painted similarly to the warship. They looked like they were in working conditions too; heavily armed with the potential to take down an aircraft at least ten times larger than it was. Being in possession of just one could vastly improve Loki's ability to finally get to Neptune; far enough away from the All-Father to feel comfortable, in the very least.

"Welcome abroad the S. S. Hydra." The head lackey announced, while spreading his arms open dramatically. "You probably shouldn't get very comfortable, though."

The second lackey guffawed somewhere from behind Loki, although he really didn't see either of them as a threat. The Winter Soldier was the threat, and he proved as much when he released him and quickly disarmed him. Loki had had an energy gun at his hip and a .38 at the small of his back; both of which the Soldier found within a thirty second period.

Expertly, he relieved both weapons of their ammo. The cartridges hit the floor with a bang; before he tossed them over to lackey number one. Without so much as an order, the Soldier walked further into the hangar and disappeared behind an automated door located at the very end of the room.

"Don't try anything funny. Rollins has a semi-automatic pointed at the back of your head."

"I have a feeling I wouldn't get very far, even if I attempted an escape. The Winter Soldier is a legendary bounty hunter amongst many other things too."

"Putting it lightly," the one called Rollins said from behind him. "Why do you think me and Rumlow are happy to be on his side?"

"What's even more titillating is how did the two of you become cohorts with the Winter Soldier?" Loki asked curiously. He figured if he could find out some information from them, maybe it would help him in the long-run. It was a matter of strategy, really.

Rumlow, as he'd been revealed to be, lifted an eyebrow with a smirk. There was something dangerous about the man, even if he looked mostly harmless; to Loki at least. But on closer inspection, Rumlow wasn't simply muscle; he had some intelligence in his eyes, probably calculated enough to serve the Winter Soldier appropriately enough.

"It's not a big secret or anything. Rollins and I kind of inherited the Winter Soldier; our fathers and theirs fathers and their fathers before that served with the elite organization called HYDRA. But by the time we were out of diapers, HYDRA was dismantled and there was nowhere for the Soldier to go. Rollins' old man kept the Soldier in cryo off and on for years; long enough to do some bounty work, but he ended up croaking like the rest of HYDRA. So he's our legacy now."

The name HYDRA was synonymous with some inhumane acts over the duration of several centuries; although they had lost their foothold about forty years ago. They had had more of an influence on the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. By the time of their dissolution, they hadn't done much of anything to shape current history. Maybe key members had done things individually to cause mass chaos, but as an organization HYDRA and waned and faded away.

There had been rumors that the Winter Soldier had a direct tie to HYDRA, but nothing could have been confirmed one way or another. Very little was known about the infamous assassin and now capable bounty hunter. And it seemed as if the Soldier was equally in the dark about his identity, if he wanted to track down a clairvoyant; even a piss poor one like Loki.

That too was an interesting bit of information; yet the probability of Loki having the upper-hand in this situation was dismal. He was unarmed with a semi-automatic pointed at the back of his head, and a more than able opponent in front of him too. Plus when you added the Winter Soldier into the mix, there was no way in hell he could flee with that sort of damning evidence (if you could call it damning, really).

"You have a pretty hefty bounty on your head." Rumlow said conversationally, while he spun his .38 carelessly with his fingers. "We could live like kings for a few years."

"Twelve million is hardly a fortune; it's an insult."

"Maybe for you, pretty boy. But we didn't grow up with wealth coming out of our asses like you." Rollins snorted and pressed the barrel of his gun against the back of his head. "Besides you aren't shit compared to Winter; now if he had a bounty, you'd be looking at the hundreds of millions mark."

"I'm surprised he doesn't have a bounty on his head. Considering the mass genocide he purportedly took part in on Mars about seventy years ago." Loki couldn't help but scowl.

"Stupid for the world government to put a bounty on his head for that; when they were the ones who orchestrated it from start to finish," Rumlow conveyed; only to quiet down instantly when the automated door whooshed open again to reveal the Soldier.

The Soldier swept back into the hangar like an oversized bat. His leather trench coat swayed with his strides and his eyes were hardened but also emotionless. Once he reached Loki, he looked close to annoyed; before he grabbed him by the upper arm, and pulled him back the way he came. Neither Rollins nor Rumlow followed them; more than likely out of fear for their own hides, which no one could hold against them.

The automated door slid open to reveal a dimly lit hallway with several doors on either side. None of them looked especially foreboding, but god only knew what possibly could be behind them. Something told him it was gobs and gobs of weaponry; enough to take down a small army.

Deeper into the warship, the darker things became. Most of the overhead lightning flickered or had completely burnt out; which made Loki's current predicament seem so much more futile than before. He would have to find a way to escape somehow. If there was a will, there most definitely was a way.

After climbing several rickety steps, passing down another hallway, the Winter Soldier halted in front of a non-descript door. Unlike the many they bypassed on their journey; this one had a keypad and an eye recognition sensor. The Soldier shielded Loki's view of the keypad as he typed, before he leaned forward so his retina could be scanned.

The door opened almost immediately. Loki was shoved inside into a decent sized room. There wasn't anything nefarious to be seen; not even a gun that he could turn on the Soldier if he wanted to. Maybe that had been the reason for his initial departure; to rid the room of any weaponry before bringing Loki here.

A compact bed was pushed against the farthest wall, covered in an army grade blanket, a simple sheet, and with a lumpy pillow at the head of the bed. Compartments were built into the wall for storage; probably housing the Soldier's wardrobe and essentials. The only thing that stuck out like a sore thumb was a badly beaten, but somehow still luminous circular shield that was leaning against the wall.

Once the door closed behind them, the Soldier released Loki and lifted up the shield with delicacy. It was only then Loki noticed one hand, his left one, was gloved while the other was not. That must have been his cybernetic arm; why else would someone choose to wear one glove otherwise? He highly doubted a three-hundred year old super assassin was worried about looking fashionable.

Slowly, the Soldier spun the shield in between his hands; seemingly hesitate to hand it over. The paint, red, white, and blue, had been scuffed and marred with use and age. But it was impossible to mistake where it originated from. It was clearly from Earth, more specifically the Americas; which had been destroyed close to a hundred years ago.

"Touch this." The Soldier finally held out the shield to him.

"Mind you, objects have to have particular significance in order to read anything off of them. Also, I wasn't taught to hone this skill very well; it could all be murky and-"

"You will read something from it or you will die."

"Yes, of course." Loki said tersely and reached for the shield. If anything, he could always lie about what he saw. He'd been told what an excellent liar he was on more than one occasion, after all.

Loki took possession of the shield, and furled his fingers around the edges. For few moments, he didn't get anything from it. His mind didn't quiver with the gravity of the memories attached to the shield. Nor did his senses pique with on-slate of visions that some objects held. There was absolutely nothing, but then it hit him like a meteor shower without any warning.

Intense flashes of color streaked across his vision; pictures and sounds and smells filled Loki up. He shut his eyes and tried to ingrain everything into his memory; to sort through the tidal wave of information that kept flooding his mind over and over again.

He didn't know how long he'd been under the tide; there wasn't any telling, but it felt like he had lived a lifetime. It felt like he lived someone else's life, and it became too much to bear. The weight of hundreds of memories, disjointed and disconnected, was a burden he didn't want to carry.

The shield dropped from his hands, clattering to the floor like gunfire. Reality overlapped the past, which temporarily disoriented Loki. He was still grappling with that steady flow of memories, and when he looked at the Winter Soldier - he remembered.

"Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th infantry,"

"You saw something."

"That's your name." Loki curled his hands into fists, in an attempt to stop them from shaking. "Your name is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. That shield belonged to a man named Captain Steve Rogers, referred to as Captain America. You were comrades in arms during the Second Great War that took place almost three-hundred years ago."

The Soldier's brow creased, but he didn't show any form of remembrance. He didn't know any more than what he had before Loki had touched the shield. His name meant nothing; the owner of the shield meant even less. Yet he still showed care when he lifted up the shield, and returned it to its former spot against the wall.

It was muscle memory. The young and valiantly handsome James Barnes had been a close friend and companion of Steve Rogers. The memory of it reverberated through Loki still. Hundreds of years hadn't lessened that fierce devotion and adoration between them an iota.

"Rumor has it that you can transfer your visions to a person." The Soldier looked at him.

"The Jotun race is born with the ability, but it doesn't come naturally. Like anything, it has to be practiced for years; perfected with years of study. I wasn't given that opportunity while with the All-Father, obviously. So there's no way I can do something of that complexity."

"Try,"

"I wouldn't even know how to go about it." Loki protested, although he stopped when the Soldier's revolver was pointed directly in his face once more. He was getting sick of how swift the assassin truly was.

Raising his hands in submission, Loki waited for the Soldier to lower his weapon. He knew the likelihood that he could transfer any of the things he'd seen was improbable. A bullet in the head was the only future he could reasonably predict.

"I'll try; I cannot guarantee anything, though. And I can't do anything with a gun pointed at me. This requires absolute concentration."

"Try it." The Soldier repeated and lowered his weapon much to Loki's relief.

Now he had to try and unearth any former knowledge he had on the Jotun people. Like most individuals his knowledge was limited; the All-Father hadn't wanted any facts about Jotunheim reaching the ears of his beloved son Thor. Or at least any knowledge that wouldn't antagonize them anyway; so that left a large gap in Loki's personal understanding of his race.

Jotun people were known for their clairvoyance, their predilection towards the occult, and their ferocity in nature. They were hated by many and called monsters frequently by the likes of Odin and his closest friends; even though, he had been in business with Loki's father for years. But that was probably an opportunistic move as well as bringing Loki into his household as his own.

"I'll have to touch you; only your temples, mind you." Loki took in a deep breath, and reached out to place his fingertips lightly against the Soldier's skin.

The touch was electrifying. Both of them jolted as a swirl of half-articulated visions overwhelmed them. Loki knew that somehow; that he was projecting the murky memories simply from touching the Winter Soldier. Which could be explained by how long he lived; the Winter Soldier was a conductor, a vessel if you will, for memories.

None of the images made any sense, though. If anything they were more emotional than visual; hot, burning, and intense emotion that rattled Loki to his core. It should have been an ugly thing, but in fact, it was quite the opposite. It was almost addictive even.

Before he could spiral further down the rabbit hole, Loki's hands were knocked away which broke the connection. The Soldier stared at him with wide, almost maddened eyes. His ubiquitously cool façade had been broken, and now that hysteria was directed towards Loki.

Just as quickly as the Soldier had pointed his revolver in his face, he grabbed him by the nape of the neck once more; only this time their mouths collided against each other's in a sloppy and uncoordinated kiss. Honestly, it really wasn't much of a kiss at all; it was more of heady fight for dominance that Loki readily committed to immediately.

The heat of those long forgotten emotions burned Loki from the inside-out. Centuries of love, hate, happiness, and sadness burrowed their way underneath his skin and made him into an inferno. He wanted to crawl inside the Soldier and feed on everything pouring out of him. More than likely because he was cold-blooded like all Jotun were.

The intensity of the kiss grew. Their lips softened against one another's, and their tongues found their way into each other's mouths; which brought forth another explosion of sensation and images that rattled him to the bones. He could almost taste the gun powder, blood, grime, and even the ice and snow. He was delving head-first into the Winter Soldier's psyche unlike anyone else had done before, and probably unlike anyone after him.

Uncoordinatedly, their hands clutched and grabbed onto the multiple layers in between them. The groan of leather and scratch of velcro filled the room, although it was easily trumped by the guttural noises streaming out of both of their mouths; sounds that were far more uncivilized than they truly were, even with their combined records of death and destruction.

Endorphins flooded Loki's body like a typhoon; as much as the Soldier's fragmented memories overwhelmed him, which only made him hungrier for more. At this point, he couldn't necessarily tell if he wanted the man, James Buchanan Barnes; or if he was simply after the high that he provided. Either way, it really didn't matter. He wanted this now and that was all that truly mattered.

Willfully blind but determined; Loki gripped onto a leather strap that curved along the Soldier's side and managed to unbuckle it. He couldn't be certain if that would lead to the garments disposal anytime soon, but at least he was trying to get closer to skin; where he knew more visions would be hidden.

Skin on skin contact would only heighten his sight, especially with how emotive the Soldier's aura was. Years of encased memories were hidden in every nook and cranny of his person. He was a relic; one that had witnessed three centuries of history unfold in front of his very eyes. So there was much to see and experience, and Loki wanted it all.

They broke away from one another, eventually. That didn't deter their hands any, though. Both of them unbuckled straps and yanked and fussed with zippers and buttons; single-mindedly focused on relieving one another of their stifling clothing. Loki couldn't help but inwardly curse the recent fashion trends that emphasized on wearing so many layers at any given time.

Somehow or another; they managed to rid Loki of his evergreen bomber jacket and the Soldier of his trench coat alongside his revolver. Underneath their outer wear was even more fabric to be found. The Soldier had a leather vest over a black, long-sleeved shirt; whereas Loki wore a black, high-necked shirt with gold accents. At least, Loki knew his shirt would be easier to get rid of than whatever the Soldier was wearing. But he was determined all the same to dispose of everything on him.

For the time being though, they chose to work on undressing themselves. Loki nimbly reached behind him to unlace the strings on the back of his shirt; before he moved onto the many zippers that made up the now seemingly ridiculous article of clothing. Within seconds, he yanked the shirt over his head and tossed it aside somewhere over his shoulder.

The Soldier's movements were mechanical but fluid; his fingers flew over the buckles of his vest, shedding it with accuracy. His shirt soon followed and then the glove that covered his artificial hand, which was quite a sight to behold. Prosthetics weren't exactly unheard of nowadays, but none looked like the one attached to the Winter Soldier.

Finely polished chrome shone dully under the fluorescent lighting; marred only by a blood red star on the Soldier's upper-arm. It was a highly sophisticated piece of machinery; far more advanced than any other cybernetic limb Loki had ever seen before. Most weren't visibly inhuman as his. People seemed to want to blend in rather than stand out, and no one could hide in plain sight with an arm like that.

Scar tissue spider webbed outward to where the prosthetic was attached to the Soldier's body; creating patterns that drew the eye and probably outlined a series of trials and tribulations that had gone unseen for over two centuries. And Loki could see it all; unearth it and live vicariously through it with a single touch.

His hands reached out and touched cool, pale skin; which sent a tremor through his body. Clips of images whitewashed by time, flashed across his vision; barbaric war machines, wooded pathways in the dead of night, and a motley crew of haggard soldiers that were covered in grime and blood but were smiling all the same.

"You are nothing but memories." Loki looked at the Soldier, whose face looked a little confused almost wounded even. "More past than future,"

The Winter Soldier was truly a relic from hundreds of years ago. He shouldn't have been jumping from planet to planet, taking on bounty work for sustenance. If anything, he should have died on a battlefield on Earth; in the mud and shit of his enemies with Captain America above him, comforting him in his last moments. But this, this was just too cruel.

Wordlessly, the Soldier cupped his jaw with both hands; flesh and bone, and metal and circuity. He drew him closer until their lips met in an unassuming way; which only intensified the swirl of pictures that filled Loki's head to the brim.

That addictive sensation ensnared him, once more dictating his movements. He kissed the Soldier hungrily, pressing his tongue between his lips and tasting every inch of his mouth. His hands dragged across his well-defined pecs and downward to his chiseled stomach, until they halted at the top of his belted trousers. Blindly, he worked at the buckle and moaned in victory when it came apart without any trouble; before he worked on the button and zipper next.

The Soldier followed his lead; he mirrored his actions and undid his leather trousers, as their mouths remained firmly glued to one another's. Sadly, they had to pull apart again; in order to work off their intricately laced boots, which proved to only annoy Loki even more when it came to his wardrobe.

After a lot of trial and error, he freed himself of his heavy, steel toed boots; giving him the opportunity to rid himself of his last remaining clothing. He worked with a single-minded fervor as he pulled off his woolen socks, and pulled down his trousers and undergarments too; leaving him exposed to the elements and the cool temperature in the room. Thankfully, his anatomy thrived in cool temperatures due to his heritage; so he didn't shy away from it.

The temperature wasn't exactly important, though. Not when he drank in the sight in front of him. The Winter Soldier was solid, impenetrable muscle; domineering and strong and a masterpiece that had been forged diligently for hundreds of years. His body was a citadel; gorgeous and lush in the right places, despite being marred by bullet wounds, knife marks, and every other deprave act in the history of civilization.

Blood rushed southward in Loki's body; right between the apex of his thighs. Roughly, he grabbed the Soldier by the nape of his neck and pulled him flush against him. Their chests bumped against one another's, before their mouths smashed together in another hungry kiss that ignited his arousal even more.

The Soldier's hands found his hips sometime amid their fervent embrace. Both threatening to leave bruises behind, a kindly reminder of their tryst if Loki ever left this ship alive. Something inside of him said he would. Or maybe he simply wouldn't want to leave after the coming proceedings transpired.

As they kissed, both of them begun to explore each other's bodies; Loki touched the beautifully crafted arm attached to the Soldier's body, but drew no significant visions from it. He then moved across the solid wall of muscle that made up the Soldier's back; which only stoked another wave of desire in the pit of his stomach. But it couldn't possibly compare, once his hands dipped lower and touched his perfectly chiseled ass.

Both of them moaned; loud and hoarse into the wet space between them. Loki felt the Soldier's arousal leap into complete hardness against his hip. Heaven only knew how many years he had gone without an intimate touch, and well Loki was no better either.

Being the second son of the mighty All-Father had its many perks, but they were diluted in comparison to his true born. Not many women or men were charmed by him, when they could bask in the light of golden-haired Thor. So Loki's recent sexual history was barren at best.

The Soldier pulled away from the kiss; leaving behind a messy smear of saliva on both their swollen lips. He dragged his hands up either side of Loki's torso, and then forward over his chest and stomach; although he paid rapt attention to each one of his nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger until they perked and hardened under his ministrations.

"Oh," Loki moaned and canted his hips forward; in order to find the friction he needed.

Spurred by his reaction, the Soldier bent his head and flicked his tongue over one of his nipples. He did so several times, before his lips closed around it and gave an experimental suck. Loki moaned again and was quickly rewarded by the sensual sensation of the Soldier's tongue curling around his nipple over and over again.

One of Loki's hands jerked upward to grip on the Soldier's hair; ensuring that he would continue and wouldn't pull away. Unfortunately, he did though; yet he moved onto the other and treated it with the utmost of care as the first.

Several moments passed, before the Soldier managed to lift his head; despite the vice-like grip Loki had on his hair. His face revealed nothing; however, his eyes were another story altogether. His pupils were dilated and lust-driven, no doubt similarly to how Loki's probably looked.

"Bed now," Loki demanded hoarsely.

Much to his delight, the Soldier responded accordingly. Maybe it was because of his military service in the past, and the structure he so desired because of it. or something entirely different Whatever the reason might have been, it really didn't matter. The only thing worthy of his attention was how the Soldier disentangled himself from his embrace, and sat on the edge of the mattress; his swollen member curved against his belly and emitting a willingness that would incite excitement in anyone.

Loki proved to be the lucky recipient of this gift. At first glance, he believed himself to be unfortunate enough to cross paths with such a legendary figure. But now, he couldn't imagine himself being anywhere else. He didn't want to be anywhere else; not even on his way to Neptune.

Slowly, he walked across the grated floor and straight between the Soldier's sprawled thighs. He intended to take him; hard and fast and as passionately as he could muster. He wanted to dissect every fragment of the Soldier's body; to unravel the mystery on how he'd survived this long. And it would be found in the deepest crevice of his psyche; he knew that for certain.

He lightly threaded his fingers through the Soldier's long hair in encouragement. Almost as if a compulsion, the Soldier's mouth opened in an apparent invitation to use him as he saw fit. Distantly, Loki wondered if HYDRA had trained him not only for assassinations, but for more pleasurable pastimes too.

Urging his hips forward, he watched in fascination as the Soldier complied with his non-verbal demand. The Soldier's tongue darted out from between his lips, and grazed the sensitive spot just below the crown of Loki's length. It was brief, but sent an electrical current through his entire body; and grew exponentially more intense as the Soldier's tongue lapped at the whole head with wet swipes.

Loki made several appreciative noises, while watching in fascination as the galaxy renowned bounty hunter, master assassin, and war hero pleasured him. That talented tongue swirled around the head of his erection multiple times, before it traveled southward and licked across his shaft with utter determination; which his member was eagerly reacting to.

His eyes fluttered shut as pleasure cascaded over him like warm front. Heat settled in the pit of his stomach and caused his toes to curl, as the Soldier brushed several sloppy kisses over the base of his erection; before he dipped lower to treat his sac to some similar attention.

The Soldier drew patterns across the sensitive skin, only to cease temporarily; in order to close his lips around one of his testicles and suck on it with the perfect amount of pressure that was very much desired. Loki tightened his grip on his hair, to the point where was pain was inevitable; yet that didn't deter the Soldier any. He continued to suck and lap at his testicle, until he chose to move to the other with as much enthusiasm as the first.

"Trained in more than just combat and espionage clearly," Loki croaked, while he shuddered and tensed defensively against the possibility of prematurely ejaculating. "But I intend on having you in the biblical sense; so you should stop for your own good."

That old programming seemed to be firmly intact in his psyche, because the Soldier pulled away from him with a wet pop; that only drove Loki's desire deeper inside of him. He wanted every inch of the man in front of him; he wanted to covet him and use him and _fuck_ him into the mattress until he couldn't even think straight anymore.

Coyly and almost mischievously, the Soldier wrapped his cybernetic hand around his shaft and squeezed. Before even the smallest of sounds could erupt from Loki's lips, he was silenced by the Soldier's mouth engulfing a third of his erection in his warm and wet mouth. His cheeks automatically hollowed and he started to suck and lave him with a single-minded determination.

Loki lurched forward, bending at the waist. His hands scrambled to grip onto the Soldier's shoulders, and discarded his previous declaration. At that very moment, all that seemed to matter was that masterful tongue on the underside of his erection, and the way the friction and suction felt around his hard flesh.

Wet suckling sounds escaped the Soldier's lips, once he began to bob his head. The rhythm was slow and measured, but incredibly effective. Loki's hips canted forward in an attempt to drive more of his length into the Soldier's mouth. But that cybernetic hand wouldn't allow it; it wasn't steely but it was firm, and that could change if he pushed his luck any.

"The Norns," he shuddered from head to toe; flooded by incredible heat that threatened to boil over and make him explode.

Just when the pleasure was becoming too much for him to handle, Loki was granted some reprieve. The Soldier slowly pulled off his erection with an obscene noise; so loud and filthy that it almost made Loki lose complete control. He was glad he hadn't, though; not when there was so much more to do still.

Labored breaths forced their way out of Loki's mouth, in a feeble attempt to regain his equilibrium. His grip on the Soldier's shoulders loosened, and that's when he was struck by another cyclone of half-formed pictures and sounds.

Grainy images of a busy Earth street, a rickety boardwalk, and thickly packed snow speckled with blood came to the forefront of Loki's mind. The latter caused his stomach to clench uneasily, although the Soldier appeared unaware of the visions he had drawn out of him. That only proved that Loki was not a natural talent when it came to clairvoyance and he never would be either.

Sobered by those memories, Loki knew he wouldn't have to worry about a speedy ending to their physical encounter. He could enjoy the Soldier now without fear of embarrassing himself. And that was really all he wanted; to fuck him until that pretty, stoic face was scrunched up with ecstasy.

"Do you have any lubricant?" He asked, despite knowing the answer already.

"Only for my arm," the Soldier spoke in that same unaffected tone; which he had had throughout their brief acquaintanceship.

Unrushed, the Soldier rose to his feet and stepped towards one of the built-ins nearby. Instead of paying any attention to the potential contents in storage, Loki's eyes found a place on the Soldier's roundly ass. It was muscular and sculpted perfectly; the kind of derriere only achieved by hours of laborious activity.

His erection twitched in anticipation; ready to be buried to the hilt in between the Soldier's shapely cheeks. Which he thankfully would be soon; seeing as the Soldier had located a small tube that would serve their purposes rather nicely. While it certainly wasn't ideal, using a product meant for anything beyond the human body; it must have been safe if it had come into contact with the Soldier's shoulder regularly.

"You don't intend on poisoning me, do you?"

"Poison is a coward's way." The Soldier handed the tube to him, before perching back on the bed; seemingly waiting for further instructions.

"Lie on your back; spread your legs as widely as you can. Then I want you to touch yourself and make yourself desirable for me." Loki ordered and stifled a wicked grin at the Soldier's immediate compliancy.

Without any protest, the Soldier moved further onto the compact bed and spread out. One of his legs went over the edge of the mattress, while the other rested flush against the wall. He was fully exposed and not embarrassed by it either. Not even when his flesh and bone hand circled around his swollen member and began to stroke himself lazily.

The sight was obscene, queer, and beautiful. Never would Loki have predicted he'd be watching the Winter Soldier touch himself for him. That seemed completely outlandish, and yet here he was and there was the Soldier before him; looking at him with steady and unwavering eyes.

He basked in the show for some time; mesmerized by how the head of the Soldier's erection glistened with precum, and how his breathing became more labored with each stroke. More than anything though, Loki was transfixed by the Soldier's face; beautiful and deadly and shut off like some kind of android.

Crossing the distance in between them, Loki climbed onto the foot of the bed and maneuvered his way in between those powerful thighs that tensed and relaxed every few moments. Blindly, Loki thumbed open the tube and poured the substance over the palm of his other hand; and then spread it onto his fingers.

Once he was certain his hand was acceptably slicked, he set the tube onto the bed, and placed one hand against the underside of one of the Soldier's cheeks. He spread it slowly, in order to expose his tightly puckered hole; before gliding one slick finger around the outer edge.

The Soldier's breath hitched from the contact, which only encouraged Loki more. He circled the Soldier's entrance in unhurried strokes; watching in delight as the muscles quivered and clenched defensively. His cock bobbed in between his legs; wanting nothing more than to be buried completely inside of the Soldier already.

Regardless of his mounting arousal, Loki took his time. He dragged two fingers over the Soldier's hole and massaged at it, until an abrupt gasp erupted from the Soldier. It was music to his ears, knowing that he could cause such a fearless entity to react in such a way. So he continued to massage and urge the muscles to give way and relax.

Gradually, he felt the tension ease away; which gave him the confidence to press on the center of the muscles with tip of his forefinger. They didn't give way as he hoped for, but it also wasn't an impossible feat either. He opened up the Soldier with the utmost of care and slipped the tip of his finger inside.

"Relax," he said. "And that is an order."

Any excess tension that had wound its way into the Soldier's body seemed to dissipate by Loki's command. He lay wide open and at ease, and helped Loki's progress immensely. He pushed more of his finger inside of him; aroused by how warm and tight he was. He felt absolutely perfect.

After a few moments, Loki slipped much of his finger out; before he pressed it back in, and adopted a steady but unobtrusive rhythm. There was still some bodily resistance to be found, but it was manageable and the Soldier didn't to appear to be in any pain either. So that only fueled on his actions even more.

Soon enough, he was two fingers deep into the Soldier. His movements were precise and persistent; he opened up the Soldier bit by bit, and was pleased by the grunts and sighs that he pulled out of him. But that was only the beginning of it, really.

With a twist of his wrist and a curl of his fingers, the Soldier's body convulsed and he moaned gutturally. A vicious sort of victory ripped its way through Loki. He repeated his previous movement and pulled out a louder sound from the Soldier that told him all he needed to know. And he took advantage of that knowledge for all it was worth.

The Soldier had become increasingly vocal at Loki's hands; a moaning, writhing mess who was practically trying to ride his hand to completion. That wasn't going to happen, though; not when Loki was ram-rod hard and ready to take the Soldier like he planned to only minutes ago.

Easing his fingers free of the heated confines of the Soldier's body, Loki grabbed the lubricant and smeared a healthy amount on his erection. Once he was done, he hooked his hands underneath the Soldier's thighs and positioned himself in between them.

"I'll fuck you so hard; all the memories that lie buried inside of you will resurface." He smirked as he pressed the head of his member against the Soldier's entrance. But he didn't push in right away and teased them both by rubbing against the crease of the Soldier's ass for several moments.

Teasing soon grew unappealing and Loki decided to end their combined misery. Pushing his hips forward, he sank into an inferno that felt too good for words. Nothing could really properly explain how incredible it felt, as he sunk further and further into the Soldier's body until he bottomed out with a hiss.

The muscles wrapped around his length clenched and fluttered, which sent pulsations of ecstasy up and down his spine. He moaned out an expletive, while the Soldier's eyes screwed shut and his teeth bore down onto his bottom lip like a twentieth century bear trap.

"You are beautiful." Loki managed to say, as he experimentally rolled his hips to positive results. Both of them reacted similarly; making noises that were addled with unbridled desire, and it spurred Loki to continue with more elaborate movements.

Alternating between rolling his hips and short, but hard thrusts; Loki fucked the Soldier determinedly. His body sang with every movement that he made, and it only became more pleasurable when he looked down to see how the Soldier's face opened up bit by bit; it wasn't by any means drastic, though.

The Soldier's eyes crinkled up with every thrust, which was enough validation for Loki to continue forward. His hips moved of their own volition; rocking in between those deadly and muscular thighs, and watching with rapt attention as the Soldier's swollen erection jostled across his firm belly.

Wetness beaded and slipped from the bulbous head, and trailed messily across the Soldier's skin. Distantly, Loki wondered what he would taste like; if that salty undertone would be enough to invoke any other memories of his extensive past. But mostly the thought was perverse and self-serving at best. He wanted to taste him, to suck him dry, and bask in the knowledge that he could make the infamous Winter Soldier his over and over again.

"How many times have you've been made a whore?" Loki gritted his teeth, all the while continuing to fuck into that perfect heat.

His member twitched in between those tightened, almost impenetrable inner walls; and drove his hips to press harder and forcing himself deeper inside the Soldier. In response, the Soldier gripped onto the cheaply constructed linens that quickly tore under his unforgivable hold.

"Do your comrades fuck you? Does one take your mouth, while the other fills your ass?"

"N-No,"

"But you would love it if they did. You'd love for them to use you; violate you in all manners of speaking. You'd love to be their pliant, little whore; whose ass was always ready to be taken and whose mouth salivated when a cock was within reach." Loki gave several jerky thrusts, which jarred the Soldier and tore a heated moan from his lips.

The rhythm between them soon lost its fluidity; Loki's main incentive became his own pleasure. His hips moved erratically, as his hands tightened around the Soldier's thighs; keeping him open to every single whim that he might potentially have.

His eyes swept up and down the body beneath him; a masterpiece forged by war and destruction. Scars littered most of the Soldier's pale skin, but didn't make him any less beautiful; nor did the metal arm and the audible whirling noises that it made. He was a formidable figure that was now at Loki's mercy, and compliant and open to the ecstasy he was giving him.

The Soldier pushed himself up a bit, which allowed him to roll his hips against the relentless thrusts Loki was giving him. The combination only heightened the ecstasy Loki was feeling; the sight was to die for as well. He loved the way the Soldier ground onto his erection, and how his muscles contracted with every roll of his hips.

Loki yanked the Soldier as close as he anatomically could. His length couldn't go any further into him if he tried, but he was determined to try all the same. He pounded into the Soldier harder and faster; relentless in his need to climax.

Bursts of light exploded across his vision, as the almost painful ache in the lower half of his body swelled and expanded. He was nearing completion already, and while he wished he could showcase his prowess; he hadn't had it in him. Not when he'd been on the losing end of a dry spell for nearly a year now.

The Soldier continued to participate in the proceedings, looking positively sinuous as he moved his hips and clenched around his member like a vice. Despite nearing the end of his stamina, Loki somehow forced his movements into overdrive; until he heard the slap of skin on skin rather loudly above his own sounds of pleasure.

His efforts were rewarded rather wonderfully too. The Soldier's body convulsed almost violently and a cry of complete submission erupted out of his throat. It was apparent that he found his prostate, and he took full advantage of it.

With several unyielding and punishing thrusts, the Soldier arched his back; hands fisting in the already tattered bed sheets, before he climaxed all over himself in a steady stream of seed all over his stomach. That proved sufficient enough of a stimulant to force Loki over the edge as well.

A guttural noise worked its way out of him, before he came inside of the Soldier with a final shaky thrust. He filled him with several spurts, and closed his eyes against the onslaught of ecstasy. The buzz of completion hummed through his veins, and opened up something buried deep inside of the Soldier.

The memory was unexpected. Loki saw a cityscape vividly before his eyes. It twinkled brilliantly against the dark sky, although the stars were nowhere to be found; covered up by a toxic cloud of pollution. But it was beautiful all the same, and the boy beside him; no beside James Buchanan Barnes, was smiling weakly at him.

_"We can't sit on the sidelines forever, Stevie. Not with what the Japs did to Pearl Harbor; now we gotta fight too."_

_"And what's a big lunk-head like you going to do about it?"_

_"Didn't say I was going to do anything about it,"_

_"I know what you're thinking, Bucky. And if you're going to enlist, so am I."_

_"I don't want to hear this again; I don't even want to picture it. The army'll eat you alive and spit you out. Just imagine what those Nazi bastards would do to you. Out of the question, Stevie; I don't want to hear another damn word about it."_

_"Bucky-"_

_"Don't wanna hear it; not going to hear it."_

As quickly as the memory appeared, it faded within seconds. The only difference between the numerous snapshots that Loki had seen throughout his encounters with the Soldier; this one seemed to strike some kind of chord. His usually stoic face was now blanched and his eyes wide and unseeing; which seemed to suggest that Loki had somehow transferred the memory without even meaning to.

Any opportunity to bask in the afterglow of his climax seemed like impossible feat now. So Loki slid slowly from the Soldier's body, and tried not to groan as a dribble of seed escaped from the Soldier's entrance. This wasn't the time to admire his handiwork.

Once they were disengaged from one another, both of them moved off the bed to locate their clothing, which had been discarded in several small piles. Neither of them spoke, while they reached down and sifted through the fabric at their disposal. There really wasn't much to say, and the Soldier still appeared to be shaken by the vision that grasped them.

The Soldier worked much quicker than Loki, in terms of dressing. He had pulled on his undergarments and socks, and his trousers within a minute or so; whereas Loki had barely slipped on his underwear and still couldn't find one of his socks.

"On the Earthian colony, specifically Quadrant Three; rumor has it that a man is cryogenically frozen there."

"Earth's mightiest hero," Loki supplied, as he finally located his other sock. "Folklore, at best; the only relic of the past is you."

"I found that shield on Quadrant One, during a bounty run."

"Your point being,"

"I need to know for certain; I need to know if it's _him_." The Soldier didn't sound any closer to being human, but there was a human-like spark in his eyes. "I've dreamt about that man, the man on the roof. He carried this shield; he might be alive."

"So then go to Quadrant Three and find out for yourself."

"Odin All-Father has substantial business ventures in Quadrant Three."

"Is that an invitation to join you?" Loki managed to say, before inwardly groaning at a revolver being pointed directly in his face again. "I suppose that is the closest to an invitation I'll ever get."

With the revolver trained on him, Loki somehow dressed himself without incident. He didn't dare move a muscle, once the barrel was pointed away from, and the Soldier finished dressing himself too. There wasn't anywhere he could flee anyway, and well if he were to be honest with himself; he wanted to dissect every inch of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

Behind that mask of indifference, the dangerous aura was a charming, old soul. Loki had barely gotten a glimpse of what was underneath the surface. All he knew was for certain that it was addictive and the Soldier, no, _Barnes_ was a sensational lover on top of that.

After Barnes finished dressing, he holstered his revolver, and proceeded to open several compartments built into the wall. Loki watched as Barnes pulled out a duffle bag, a few pieces of black clothing with body armor sewn into them, and too many weapons to count. Knives, guns of every caliber were either thrown into the bag or strapped onto Barnes's person. But more importantly he grabbed the shield that had been the epicenter of their whole encounter from the get-go.

"We'll take my ship." Barnes headed towards the door, before he opened it with a push of a button, and stepped into the awaiting hallway.

"What about my ship? Do you honestly believe I'll leave it in a dump like this?"

"You won't have to; Rumlow has already brought it into the hangar."

"How would he…?" Loki patted his pockets, but didn't find his keys.

Annoyed but impressed, he followed Barnes through the labyrinth of the ship. It didn't take very long to find their way back to the hangar, where Rollins was sitting on several crates and smoking a cigarette. Rollins didn't question Barnes as they passed, probably because he was a fearsome figure; despite technically being shared property between him and Rumlow.

Unsurprisingly, the nicest ship in the hangar belonged to Barnes. Loki's ship was nothing to crow about in comparison; he was relieved that Rumlow did, in fact, retrieve it instead of leaving it behind all the same though.

Barnes climbed up the side of the ship and unlocked the cockpit, and then climbed into the driver's seat. Right behind it was a second seat that would serve as storage for the shield, his bag and Loki too. Reluctantly, Loki took his place behind Barnes and situated the duffle bag onto the floor at his feet; although he didn't have any other option but to hold the shield in his lap.

Sepia tinged snapshots flashed across Loki's vision, which he managed to ignore as best as he could. Soon enough when they were in dead space, swallowed by silence; he could untangle all the things that were so desperately trying to be seen by him at that moment.

The cockpit closed with a soft hiss that was soon followed by the whirl of the engine coming to life. Barnes flipped several switches on his console, before he glanced over his shoulder at Loki with a glimmer of hope in his eyes; which was a first from what Loki had seen.

"Are you ready to cause some mischief?" Barnes asked and sounded briefly like the boy soldier and twentieth century hero from the past.

Loki contemplated that question seriously. He had caused more than just a little mischief throughout the past few months; if anything it would constitute as mayhem. He had broken every law known to the galaxy, and well if he went to Quadrant Three; he was going to do ten times worse, maybe even twenty times worse.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, space cowboy."


End file.
